Closely Held Forgotten Memories
by Aquen
Summary: Moments in time in the world of Nabari, short stories from different times and places during the story dealing with many different characters, a collection of rambling One Shots.
1. Erased Memories

_Not quite sure why I did this one... just kind of stared writing and this is what I ended up with... I know its rambling, very rambling infact, and is kind of weird, strange, and doesn't really have a purpose and I can understand why anyone will find this boring but... ah well..._

_**Spoiler Alert: Chapter 50 and 51**_

_**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Nabari No Ou**_

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There is a gaping hole in the fabric of the universe. A black hole that has swallowed something, no _somebody_, up leaving nothing in that person's place except a few scattered hearts that carry the fragments of that person's forgotten life.

A young boy feels the connecting thread to someone, a thread cut short and leading to places forgotten, erased. He desperately gazes at the string, unsure what to do, unsure what he did. Though no one says it out loud he's knows he's done something taboo, he's used something he should have never have used. He's done something, something that no one can remember. He is held down by a terrible feeling of guilt, of confusion, of loneliness.

And middle aged man clutches at the stump that used to be an arm. The pain burns through his body, but is fades in comparison to the agonizing hole in his own heart. There is something missing, someone missing. There was someone so close to him, who had somehow driven so close to his closed and callous heart. But who was it? What had he done for that mysterious person? It's painful to remember that there was someone close to you but to forget all together who that person was. Much more painful than the phantom pains of a lost limb.

A women sits at the table knitting, before suddenly stopping, looking down at her half finished muffler. She picks it up slowly, gently and gazes down at it. It's a white muffler, made of heavy and soft material, something that could keep anyone warm. But… why had she been making it? She set the muffler down cocking her head to the side. There was a promise wasn't there? To someone…. But whom? Something to do with "that world" wasn't it? Something to do with Miharu…The clock ticks away for a few seconds before the women smiles and shakes her head. Laughing quietly at herself, her mind is going with her age. She picks back up the knitting needles and continues. Surely Miharu will remember the promise she made.

A cat like girl suddenly stops, alert, the feeling so fresh, so clear it's unmistakable. A disturbance in the world, a quiver in the air, a feeling she knows. The Shinra Banshou. The feeling is keen and as suddenly as she feels it it's gone. But something is different, the world is different. Something has changed. The bird felt it to, flapping over head, glancing down at the girl their eyes locking and a mutual message that "I felt it" passing between them in wordless communication. It was used, and something was changed.

The list can go on and on, of the people affected by the change, a pink haired samurai who can't quite remember who exactly had saved him by pulling his young assistant out from deaths shadows. A man knowing there was someone he had taken in, there was something he had done, there was someone who had betrayed him and fled from him. Someone powerful, someone he had thought was for sure dead inside and wouldn't put up a fight. Where had his plan's gone wrong? An intelligent women and ex-Kairoshu member who knew for some reason her brother, and thus her as well, had fled from the Kairoshu, but not sure why. What had happened? What had been done against them? Why did she feel a hollow sensation she was sure she should remember, that was important? A young boy throwing a baseball up and down halfheartedly, separate from the world of Nabari and yet in a way connected to its secrets. A past haunts him and yet in one moment it's gone, only a strange feeling like a half forgotten dream remaining.

Memories erased. Not forgotten, but erased. And it was all his fault.

Miharu lay on the bed, head buried in the pillows. His eyelids drooped but he resisted sleep. The terrible memory of the last time he had awoken piercing through his conscious. The fear that had clutched his heart as he scrambled to remember, then realizing what he had done. The terrible thing he had done. This memory kept him awake, an irrational fear of what might happen when he awoke again pounded through him keeping him awake. Miharu lay, feeling hollow and empty. What had that person been to him? What was their friendship, how deep had they forged it, what happened and why, why didn't he remember? Why had he used the Shinra Banshou?

Was there a way to get these memories back?

Miharu's eye lids slowly slipped down, sleep beginning to claim him. But he was scared to sleep, unsure what would happen next if he fell asleep. He was supposed to be apathetic, but not he felt anything but. He was scared, alone, craving for the companionship of another. Craving to know what he had forgotten.

_Hey._ He thought sleepily to no one, or maybe to the void that had swallowed up his memories of "that person". _Let us have good dreams…_

_

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_

_That's it, I've finished rambling... for now xD _

_I've written a few more ramblings that I'll upload along with this story, and if I write any more rambles about Nabari No Ou (as it seems is the only thing I can do when it comes to writing Nabari No Ou fanfiction...) I'll upload it along with this one._


	2. Motherly

_I love Hanabusa! She's awsome! xD So I just wanted to write something about her... something... something... and so I started out and this is what happened..._

_Somehow Yoite managed to wiggle his way into the story (as he usualy does for me) but he's awsome to so were good!_

_**Spoiler Alert: Chapter 49**_

_**Disclaimer:**__**I do not own Nabari No Ou**_

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Hanabusa carried the heavy jacket, walking silently toward Yoite. They were discussing plans, plans to help Miharu, and plans about "that world" a world where Hanabusa did not belong.

As she drew forward their discussion seemed to be coming to an end, there was a light in Yoite's eyes, a spark of life that Hanabusa had never seen in his eyes before.

He was more alive now than she had ever seen him.

"Yoite-kun…" She called softly out to him. Yoite turned, watching as she walked up to him, his coat draped in her arms.

Yoite shifted to face her, stretching out his arms as she held out the folded jacket for him to take.

He hesitated, standing still, his eyes softening. "Goodbye."

Hanabusa felt her heart tighten. She reached out, gently touching his cheek. Yoite closed his eyes, allowing her to touch him. _Goodbye_, he had said. The word held a terrible weight of a grim reality.

"You two come back together all right?" She asked, smiling up at Yoite, who still held his eyes lightly shut. They wouldn't be coming back together.

She wrapped her arms around the young boy's thin frame drawing him closer to her. Yoite reached one arm up around her, laying it lightly across her back a bit awkwardly, holding his other arm between them, and clutching the jacket tightly.

"Let me see the sight of you wearing a muffler next time, okay?"

There wouldn't be a next time, they both understood that. But it didn't matter.

Hanabusa pulled back, still smiling up at Yoite. Yoite slowly opened his eyes, gazing back at her before turning and following the white haired girl away from Hanabusa.

Hanabusa watched her smile fading. She knew that "that world" held pain, and lots of it, she understood that when she and Tobari had gotten into a more serious relationship. But Yoite was so young, and defiantly to young to be dying.

Hanabusa was not one to be sad, she was upbeat and happy, always open and welcome, a smiling motherly figure. She would rather hope than doubt, she would keep on believing that bother Miharu and Yoite would return until they got back, and she would only give into the truth that Yoite was never coming back when Miharu returned without him.

Yoite's figure slowly faded into the blackness, leaving Hanabusa alone as the people most important to her got caught up in "that world".

"I hope he finds the candies…"

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_*snif* *snif* The muffler... the candies... so many great moments put into the manga just because of Hana..._

_Ramble #2!_


	3. Observer

_I've always thought of Shijima of only caring about herself, kind of like a cat... just going through life, accepting help if its offered but rather just going it alone. So I was interested in why she herself help Yoite during chapter 50, I'm guessing it had something to do with her own wish concerning the Shinra Banshou but... it was still interesting to come up with my own ideas._

_Though I don't think I did a very good job writting out what I thought her thought process might be... hmmm.._

_**Spoiler Alert: Chapter 50**_

_**Dislcaimer: I do not own Nabari No Ou**_

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She longed for death. He longed to disappear. They were so different, yet so similar.

The young girl's arms swung at her side, red eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she watched the pathetic dying kira user struggle up the flight of stairs.

Why was she helping him? Because Kouichi told her to? But since when did she ever listen to that bird? She controlled her own life. No one could tell her what to do, or what not to do.

"Don't give up Yoite!" She jumped down in front of where the Kira user had collapsed on the floor, grasping at the railing in a desperate attempt to pull his body forward.

"U…uh… I can't see anything… Miharu's not here!" Yoite gasped out, his words broken and strained. Shijima looked down at him, silent for a moment. He didn't realize how lucky he was to be dying; he didn't know how much she wished they could switch places.

"Do your best, you're going to help Miharu, are you not?" Shijima asked, a strange feeling taking over her body. She wasn't sure she had ever felt this feeling before, a strange sensation. For a reason unbeknownst to her she wanted Yoite to live, as long as the Kira sucking out his life would allow, she wanted him to live long enough to get to Miharu and help him.

She couldn't remember a time she wasn't waiting for a person's inevitable death.

A spark of fire flickered in Yoite's eyes, a spark of determination. Shijima didn't know what kind of friendship those two had forged but Shijima could tell that Yoite wanted very much to help his friend.

Humans could form such interesting relationships. And Shijima had watched many times as humans overcame great obstacles to help their dear friends.

Yoite bowed his head, letting out a low "ugh" as he tried to gather the small amount of energy left to him.

The flapping of wings signaled Kouichi's return. Shijima glanced back at the bird, watching as he flapped toward her and Yoite.

She held out her arm letting Kouichi land on her forearm, his talons resting around her thin arm, careful not to hurt her.

"Hey, thanks for the hard work." Shijima smiled gently at her only constant friend.

Kouichi relayed the information he had gathered during his flight, Shijima listened intently, trying to form some small plan in her head to help. After Kouichi gave her all the information he had gleaned Shijima let him go to search for more information, turning away from the owl flying away to the dying man still on the stair case.

"So, Yoite, get up and walk." Shijima demanded. She had the strange want to see what Yoite and Miharu would do, what would happen to their doomed friendship. Though Shijima was fascinated by death and longed for it herself, she had decided to help Yoite, not just sit back and watch him die. She wanted to help him while he was alive. "Show me that you are alive."

Shijima reached out a hand toward Yoite. She was an observer; she wanted to watch the two strange boys, Yoite and Miharu, she had met, but in order to continue being an observer she would have to take a small part in helping the two along.

Yoite's eyes widened slightly at her words, staring at her outstretched hand. He grimaced, closing his eyes and shuddering, a small grunt escaping his lips. He fell forward on the stairs, clasping his hand over his face, shuddering in pain as the kira sucked more of his life out of him.

As he fell forward something slipped from one of his coat pockets bouncing on the hard ground and rolling to a stop. Yoite snapped his head upward, staring at the object in shock.

Shijima bent down and picked up the tightly wrapped candy that had fallen. "It's hard candy." She said not sure if Yoite knew what it was that had fallen. Yoite pushed himself up, slipping his hand into the pocket the candy had fallen from and drawing his hand back out, holding two more of the candies.

"I wonder if Hanabusa-san put these in…" Yoite murmured, gazing at the candies in his hand.

"Heh." Shijima chuckled, playing with the piece of candy in her hand. "Almost like a "Mother" huh?"

"Mo…ther." Yoite questioned, the word seemed foreign to him, it was strange coming out of his mouth and a look of confusion passed over his face.

Shijima watched his strange reaction to the word. But she understood how he wouldn't know what a mother was; he had been part of the Kairoushuu after all. But it would be hard for Shijima to tell him what a mother was, she had never had one. She had always been an experiment, she couldn't remember the time before that, and after she was stuck wandering the world, watching as those around her died.

"According to my observations," Shijima turned to the side unwrapping the candy and popping it into her mouth. "They think of their children first and foremost and have inclination toward fussing over them without asking for something in return." Shijima rolled the candy over her tongue, tasting its honey sweet flavor.

A mother must be wonderful to have.

"That's a "Mother""

"Mother…" Yoite repeated, holding up a piece of candy in a gloved hand.

Shijima cracked the candy in half in her teeth chewing it with her sharp teeth. Yoite slowly slipped the candy back into his pocket, his eyes seeming distant, a hint of a sad smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Yoite pushed off the ground struggling to his feet, using the railing to support his weight. "Let's go." He said firmly, shuffling up the last step to the landing.

Shijima smirked at him and nodded.

She was an observer, but now she would help as she could. But only so she could see the end result, to see what Yoite and Miharu would do, and to see if her own wish would be fulfilled. That was why she was helping.

Yoite didn't know how lucky he was to be dying.

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_Yep, yep, yep! Ramble #3... _


	4. Cliché Lemonade

_From the title can you guess what this little ramble is about? let me give you a hint if the title isn't enough. The story has to do with Yukimi... Yoite... Lemonade... need any more hints? Well if you haven't guessed yet then I'll just have to tell you. This little story is about the first time Yukimi gave Yoite lemonade... I know its been done... I know every fanfiction author who has read Nabari No Ou probably wants to write this or has written it... I know I just wrote a very cliche story..._

_Why did I upload it? Because this packet of ramblings I've been given gives me the perfect oprotunity to do so, it's just a ramble... I felt like uploading... I wrote a long time ago... _

_Yeah! Cliche!_

**_Spoiler Alert:_**_ I wouldn't really say there are any spoilers but... chapter 44_

**_Disclaimer:_****_ I do not own Nabari No Ou (I hope everyone realizes that by now...)_**

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Steam rose from the cup swirling up with the aroma of lemons carried in it. Yukimi took a cautious sip of the hot drink, the scalding liquid slipped down his throat leaving a trail of heat, warming the pit of his stomach.

"Ah!" Yukimi sighed in relief, rolling his head to the side and then to the other, popping his neck joints with satisfying cracks. "That's better." He muttered pulling out his chair before the computer desk and plopping down, careful not to spill any of the hot lemonade.

"Now I can get back to work." Yukimi pulled up an internet browser. With a fresh cup of lemonade he was ready to tackle the work he had piled up in both the front world and the Nabari world. "Geesh…" Yukimi grumbled, clicking on the mouse. "They give me too much work. I really should get a raise…"

He spoke to no one in general, more to himself than to the Kira user lying on the couch, the blanket half covering his bunched form. Talking to himself was a strange habit he had picked up when the boy had been placed under his guardianship, to cover the silence that the boy seemed to keep around him. That silence made Yukimi uncomfortable.

Yukimi continued to mumble to himself about his jobs, how the internet was going slowly, how the weather wasn't supposed to be good tomorrow, anything to cover the silence.

Yukimi took a large gulp of the cooler lemonade and heavily set the cup back down with a clump and heaved a large sigh. "That tastes good!" He cheered.

Of course there was never any response from the boy.

"Ah…" Yukimi leaned forward closer to the computer screen, scanning the words, eyes slightly narrowing in concentration as he read. His talk silenced as he read, leaving space for the silence that the boy seemed to love.

As he continued to read Yukimi slowly began to sense the strange feeling of being watched. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the pair of blue eyes staring at him.

Yukimi slowly became more and more distracted by the unwavering eyes.

Balling his hand into a fist Yukimi swirled around, eyes narrowed at the young boy. "What do you…?"

The boy just stared, but not at him. Yukimi followed the line of his eyes; they were trained on the mug of lemonade. Yukimi glanced back at the boy and raised an eyebrow.

"What? You want some?"

Yukimi didn't expect him to answer, and he didn't, just continued to stare at the mug.

"Ah really…" Yukimi pushed himself up from his chair and shuffled over toward the shelf grabbing a mug, beginning to make a mug of lemonade for the Kira user. "I've already done so much for you… only yesterday you were growing like crazy… geesh, after that I don't want to have to listen to any parents complain about their kids going through growth spurts!"

Yukimi straightened from his bent position and turned toward the Kira user whose eyes were still trained on the mug sitting on the desk.

"Here." Yukimi held out the mug toward the boy, but he made no motion to reach for it. "Do you want it or not?"

Still the boy gave no sign as to whether he truly had wanted the hot lemonade or not. Yukimi sighed and set the mug down on the floor in front of the couch.

"Well it's there if you want it. You'd better drink it sometime; I just took that effort to make it for you. Really… what a brat."

Yukimi turned, his eyes lingering on the mane of hair lying around the boys face; even his hair had not been spared his wild growth spurt.

"I'll have to cut you're hair sometime, what a pain." Yukimi walked back over and flopped onto his chair, continuing to read what the brat had torn him away from.

Silence fell back over the room, but the boys eyes were no longer trained on the mug.

The noise from the traffic outside and the click of Yukimi's mouse were the only noises breaking the silence.

Yukimi pushed the thoughts of the boy from his mind, focusing on getting his latest article in by the deadline. Brining up a blank word document Yukimi began to type, adding a more constant sound to the silence.

The sound of the mug scraping across the floor made Yukimi glance behind, the boy had leaned over the side of the couch, slowly picking up the mug and sitting back up on the couch, the blanket slipping off of him. He sniffed the drink then brought it cautiously to his lips; he hesitated before taking a big gulp of the drink.

"Hey!" Yukimi swiveled around in his chair to face the crazy boy. "Don't just gulp it down, it's hot!"

The boy didn't look at Yukimi, lowering the mug and setting the now half empty mug back on the ground. He drew his knees up to his chest and gently rested his forehead on his knees, taking the pose Yukimi had seen him take many times before.

"Gosh." Yukimi swiveled back around shaking his head. "You really are a hand full, you know that?"

Yukimi resumed his typing, but a niggling thought at the back of his mind continuously began to distract him.

He needed to give the Kira user a name.

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_ Wow! A__ll four uploads put up in 1 day... you know why? Because all but the first rambles I had finished for a while but wasn't sure if I should upload them or not untill I decided to just do a whole thing dedicated to my Nabari No Ou fanfiction ramblings. So no I didn't just get a very good writing streak that will effect the rest of my ongoing projects... (I wish that was the case though...)_

_Will there be more?... I don't know... maybe... probably... don't know..._


	5. Broken

_A really short spur of the moment one shot... really I should be working on my other fanfic ideas but... The story was just random, a little oneshot focaused on Raikou..._

**_Spoilers_****_: Chapter 25_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Nabari no Ou_**

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**Broken**

Breaking. He swiftly walked away, forcing himself to walk, to force one foot before the other. The heat of the roaring fire made his back hot, scorched him, burned him.

He knew she would still be standing there, but he couldn't look back. He wouldn't look back. Cut ties, all ties cut. There was nothing back there, nothing to return to. He had destroyed it all, destroyed his old life. He couldn't look back now.

Not now.

He blamed the smoke for making it hard to see, the haze sending him walking no where, just away. He ignored the tears that stung the back of his eyes, just forced himself onward.

He gripped the sword pommel; it dug into his hands a stinging pain that brought him back to his senses that kept him from breaking down, from allowing the tears to run freely.

Kairoushuu.

After pushing everything away from himself, cutting all ties that was the only avenue left, the only chance to begin again, to recreate himself.

He continued onward, the one thought pushing him, giving him a reason to continue to breathe, continue to live while all others had been cut down.

Ash fell like snow around him as he walked further away from what had once been his home.

A scream ripped through the air, small girls cry of horror at what he brother had done. But it went unheard by him, he ignored it, he refused to recognize the anguish of his sister.

It didn't matter; nothing from his past mattered anymore.

Broken, it was all broken, now he would have to piece together his destroyed life.

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_Just my thoughts on how Raikou _might _have felt after killing his family and going to join the Kairoushuu... though I think it's a bit off since he's still pained by the past... ah well..._

_I actually did another one shot! Well, that just adds another short story xD_


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